In my last Zap Tale, I conveyed how over the course of a decade of doing the prison thing, I grew to despise the morning count bell. Most convicts see it as an alarm clock. Others sleep through it though I don’t know how they could. When they do, the C.O. takes great pleasure in rapping his nightstick across their bars.
Over the course of my illustrious career as a convict I have become complacent with most parts of prison. However, the one thing far worse than that fucking bell is the institutional shakedowns. For those who don’t know what that is, it usually happens after one faction of inmates decides to try and kill off another for whatever reason. Right after the dust settles and the shell casings are picked up from the yard, they lock down the entire prison.
Sometimes you know they’re coming the night before, other times you’re woken up by surprise, as around twenty minutes after that cock-sucking bell goes off the breakfast list is usually taken. It’s been the same routine forever. Although I really can’t say forever, But I can attest to it the approximately five thousand eight hundred and forty times I have personally heard it. So, when a convict doesn’t see the breakfast list, he knows there’s some kind of an issue. Then, the rolling metal cart with styrofoam trays stacked high only confirms it’s going to be “breakfast in bed” as it’s called.